


heart

by onbeinganangel



Series: kinkuary 2021 [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Affection Comes in Many Forms and This is One, Astoria as the Domme you didn't know you needed, F/M, HP Kinkuary 2021, Oral Cock Warming, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Touch-Starved Draco Malfoy, d/s dynamics, humiliation/degradation kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29238789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onbeinganangel/pseuds/onbeinganangel
Summary: After their reluctant betrothal and consequent marriage, letting Astoria take over the Malfoy business and estate was a no-brainer. Draco wanted nothing to do with it — the name, the old pureblood families and their bullshit, the long meetings, the awful decisions.It was a no-brainer. The rest… well,the resttook a little longer.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy
Series: kinkuary 2021 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137662
Comments: 18
Kudos: 38
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	heart

**Author's Note:**

> This... is the most romantic thing I have ever written, that's not even up for argument, sorry not sorry.  
> I've been giving you the brattiest of brats the past few days, so figured it was about time I gave you a good old fashioned well-behaved sub for a change.
> 
> I wasn't sure if I should tag this as Trans Astoria Greengrass and decided against it in the end because it's just PWP and there is literally no context but in _my wizarding world, transphobia is not a thing and we banished Rita Skeeter long ago,_ but in case you need to know before going in: if you assumed the cock in cock warming was Draco's... you'd be mistaken.
> 
> [Uphorie](https://uphorie.tumblr.com) — we're six days in and I've ran out of ways to say thank you for looking my work over to make sure I didn't have any silly typos! You lifesaver!

After their reluctant betrothal and consequent marriage, letting Astoria take over the Malfoy business and estate was a no-brainer. Draco wanted nothing to do with it — the name, the old pureblood families and their bullshit, the long meetings, the awful decisions. 

It was a no-brainer. The rest… well, _the rest_ took a little longer.

Draco is not allowed in the room unless he’s called in, but he waits, just outside the side door to her study — he knows she’ll call.

He hears her walk in, the _clickity-clack_ of her red soled stilettos against the cold marble floor. He hears her pop the decanter open, her usual cube of ice falling inside the glass. He’s seen her do it hundreds, probably thousands of times now. So many he can picture it clearly from this side of the door, just from the sounds. She’s standing tall, perfectly tailored suit showcasing exactly what she wants it to. If he had to guess, he’d say she’s wearing red lipstick, and her hair is done up in a high ponytail that swings across her back as she walks back to her desk — _click, clack_ — and puts her gold-rimmed tumbler down on the desk. 

The sound of fabric against leather tells him she’s sat at the desk, which, as per usual, makes his cock twitch against the fabric of his trousers. It would all be a little easier if he was allowed to keep his boxers on, but he wouldn’t even dream of disobeying one of Astoria’s explicit orders.

Draco hears the familiar pop that tells him Dilly has Apparated in the study before he hears the elf’s high pitched voice tell _Mistress Malfoy_ that her guests have arrived.

“Mr. Rosier. Mr. Burke.”

 _Ugh. Two old crooks_ , where Draco is concerned.

“Mrs. Malfoy.” In unison. It’s clear everyone is well aware who’s in charge in that room, and she won’t let them forget. 

Draco does his best not to zone out after that, but _by Merlin_ he hates the business talk. He knows Astoria will call for him, though, so he pays attention. He hears every shuffle on a leather chair, every sip out of a tumbler, every monotone agreement or disagreement on investments, trades, deals. 

Astoria offers the two men a top-up of their drinks personally, even though their first drinks were served by Dilly, and Draco’s cock stiffens at the sound of her heels back on the marble floor. Three drinks are served and Astoria walks back to her desk, but doesn’t sit. Instead, Draco hears her murmur something faintly and, as expected, Dilly Apparates in the room where he is, right next to him. 

“Mistress Malfoy requires you.”

“Thank you, Dilly,” he says, before the elf Disapparates again. 

He straightens quickly, makes sure his suit is impeccably pressed and free of fluff and barely has time to make sure he’s looking down before the double doors gently fall open with the familiar tingle of Astoria’s magic.

“Draco, come join us,” she says, softly.

Draco was correct in his suspicion that Astoria had not sat back at her desk. He doesn’t dare look up but he can see enough to tell she’s sat on the desk, one dusty rose pinstriped leg crossed over the other. 

Draco approaches without a sound and stops at his usual spot, right next to the desk.

“Come closer, pet,” she says, and props his chin up with a long manicured nail until their eyes meet. Her plump red lips shape into a mean smile and Draco is so high-strung he finds it’s already a struggle not to make a sound.

“Down,” she commands, letting go of his chin, and Draco drops to his knees seamlessly and curls into a bow, forehead to the marble floor. 

Draco is grateful for the coolness of the marble, but even that doesn’t last long.

Astoria doesn’t move from her spot on the corner of the desk while she bends and shapes the conversation around her wants and wills, both Rosier and Burke wrapped around her finger. When Astoria finally does move, it’s simply to uncross her legs and slowly slide a pointed shiny shoe towards Draco. He lifts his head only enough for it to go under his eyeline and he kisses it, making sure not to touch any skin as he does.

“Enough,” she says after a few minutes, and the foot is gone as Astoria walks around him and back to her desk.

Draco starts to lower himself back into the floor, but Astoria’s voice calls him closer to her again.

He kneels by her desk this time, eyes cast down, but he knows she doesn’t want him curled up, not if she’s called him over to her desk.

She pays him no mind, though, and he stays, cock tented, the friction against the fabric torturous. 

Papers get passed around, the sale of a rather rare object Draco wishes to forget exists is mentioned, but he keeps his eyes down, and is eventually rewarded with a gentle pat on his head. 

It’s hard not to get all up in his head when he has to wait. Listening to this talk he rejected long ago, having to hear these conversations that so remind him of his father. But when she pays him attention — whether it is by requiring her shoes kissed or by stroking his hair — he remembers he’s needed. He’s wanted. He’s _loved._

She grabs something off her desk and turns to him. When he hears the liquid pouring, he knows what she’s doing. 

“Such a well behaved pet,” she says, as the Firewhiskey trickles from her tumbler onto the small matching saucer.

In the early days, she would have said _“don’t make a mess.”_ Perhaps even _“lick it all up like a good boy.”_ But she knows she doesn’t have to anymore, and she places the saucer carefully on the floor between her feet, and Draco shuffles forwards and gets to it, with little kitten licks, to minimise the sounds.

He knows — hopes he knows — what’s coming next. And sure enough, as soon as he lifts his head from the small saucer, he hears the sound of the button being undone, and the zip on her trousers being pulled down. His mouth waters before he even sees it, but soon enough she’s pulling on his tie and jerking him forward. 

Astoria isn’t hard. That’s not the point of this. But Draco _loves it_. He feels the inside of his trousers get slightly stickier as she says _“open up, pet”_ and is surprised, as he always is, at the soft, velvety texture of Astoria’s soft cock in his mouth. 

Draco had been excellent at sucking cock way before this became a thing, way before Astoria. But this isn’t sucking cock. He had learnt to control his breathing, not to make a noise, to keep his tongue flat but not drool — she didn’t like the mess. At first he’d lacked the rhythm, he’d missed the feeling of a hard prick hitting the back of his throat, her hand grabbing his hair tightly. Now, though, the idea of being kept here at Astoria’s mercy consumed his whole being. 

He was needed, wanted, loved. He was _useful_.

The stakes on Astoria’s deal were high today, Draco had known how stressed she’d been about it, so he knows he can’t fuck this up. He knows not to moan, not to breathe too loudly, not to stain her trousers and not to make a mess of himself — even though he knows he could easily rut against her leg and make himself come in seconds. And _Salazar_ , he wants to.

Draco doesn’t know how long it goes on for. A painful, endless lifetime in his eyes. Finally, papers are signed. Hands are shaken over Astoria’s desk, where, without doubt, both Astoria’s guests can see Draco by her feet.

“You’ve made the boy into what Lucius couldn’t,” Rosier says and Draco’s cock weeps, despite the prickle behind his eyes. 

“You’ll do well to keep your comments to yourself, Mr. Rosier,” Astoria cuts, coldly. 

In an uncharacteristic move, Astoria’s hand cards through his hair, from the forehead to the nape of his head and, from there, she traces his jaw and two fingers join her cock in his mouth, as she dismisses her guests with a wave that slams the study door open.

“Thank you for coming,” she says.

And fuck, _he_ would like to come.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” they both say, again.

Astoria pulls her half hard prick out of his mouth, as well as her fingers and bends down to kiss him, open mouthed.

“You’ve done so well,” she says. “You’re such a lovely pet, Draco. So pretty and so good for me.” And, despite how warm he is, his whole body breaks into a long shiver.

What happens now is a mystery to Draco — which makes it his favourite part. More often than not, Draco is dismissed just like her guests are and finishes himself off in the adjacent room, or the bathroom down the corridor, or his bedroom — depending on his urgency. Astoria rarely touches him after her meetings.

Draco tries not to get his hopes up but his blood boils in his veins at the fact that he’s not been immediately told to leave. He keeps his head leant against her thigh and does his best to control his breathing. Next thing he knows, Astoria’s index and middle finger are back in his mouth and he has to crane his neck a little as her foot lifts off the floor slightly.

He has no time to be surprised to hear the word she very rarely says because the moment her lips shape around the one syllable of _“come,”_ the pointed toe of her shiny black shoes presses against his cock and he comes, panting and gasping desperately against her knuckles. 

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I've not written Drarry in ages but God Almighty! My kingdom for Draco Malfoy.
> 
> for a more hyperactive and extremely chatty version of me, come say hi [on tumblr](https://onbeinganangel.tumblr.com)


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